A Sudden Impulse
by Dappelhoard
Summary: John is confused by these sudden feelings that come over him, feelings concerning his best friend and flat mate Sherlock. Contains a bit of fluff and minor masturbation. Part 1 of ? Please R


John walked up the creaking stairs in 221B, laden with shopping bags, to find Sherlock lying across the sofa his eyes closed and his hands held together as if he was praying. Placing the bags on the kitchen table, he unpacked, putting the milk in the fridge and having to scoot aside a few jars of who knows what. He plunked himself down in one of the armchairs and for a moment just looked at Sherlock; his soft looking hair, his strong looking hands, his smooth looking face, and he wondered, just for a second, what its would be like to hold and touch them.

"No!" John thought, not knowing what had come over him and shaking his head rapidly as if he could shake away his last thoughts "What am I thinking? Sherlocks my friend and flat mate and I'm not even...I don't feel that way about guys!"

Deciding not to sit their stewing in his confusion, he cleared his throut. Sherlock opened his eyes.

"Yes John, what is it?" he said in monotone.

"Good morning to you too"

"Morning?"

"Yes, you've been lying there since last night. Been thinking about the Piccadilly Case?"

"Yes, there's just one last crucial detail that is elluding me did you get some milk?"

"What?...Oh yes"

At that moment Sherlocks cellphone rang. John sighed, as Sherlock made no move to answer it himself, stood up and followed the sound off the ringing which ended up being ontop of the fireplace.

"Hello?" he said when he answered it.

"John, where's Sherlock?" said the familiar voice of Inspector Lestrade on the other end.

"He's here"

"Tell him to come to the station now, it's urgent"

"What's happened?"

"It's another murder and I have far too much on my plate right now to be dealing with it"

"Yes OK"

And with that Lestrade hung up.

Its didn't take long for John to presuade Sherlock to go to the station for soon after the call from Lestrade there was a loud "Aaah, of course!" as he finally figured out the key to the Picadilly Case, which he later told John lay in the small threads of linen that were beneath the window sill.

John lay in his bed staring at the plain ceiling, it had ended up being a long day. Once they had arrived at the station Lestrade had hurriedly filled them in on what had happened; a middle aged man, who had plenty of enemies but none of which were in the country at the time and all have air tight alibies, was found brutally murdered in his office and they have no leads whatsoever on who the killer may be.

They had visited the crime scene, Sherlock did his thing and as if it was childs play he easily identified the murderer to be the mans secretary. After that was all done and dusted, they went back to the station to inform Lestrade that the case had been solved and then Anderson came in and kicked up a fuss about something stupid. Once Sherlock had verbally smashed Anderson they took their leave. They then walked to the morgue where Sherlock picked up some body parts to experiment on. After returning to the flat Sherlock had ended up having an argument with Mycroft over the phone about him doing some job for the government that he was quite reluctant to do.

John thought the day over in his head while he lay there and he sloewly drifted off to sleep.

_His hands. His arms. His torso. His face. His hair. His body. Sherlock straddled the topless John and slowly ran his fingers lightly down his chest. John reached up to touch Sherlocks face but Sherlock grabbed his hand and then to Johns suprise, seductively licked is fingers. John could feel himself getting hard. Sherlock then lent down and embraced John in a loving kiss._

John abruptly awoke from his dream, the image of it still firmly in his mind. It disturbed him and then even more so when he looked down to see that he had a pulsing erection. He quickly got up and and rushed to the bathroom to sort it out. It had been a very long time since he had woken up to that sight and it concerned him that it had been a sexuall dream about his best friend that had brought it on, and the fact that he had even had that dream.

Once he got into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, he pulled down his pyjama pants and sat on the stool next to the sink. Wrapping his hand around his stiff cock and beginning to stroke it up and down, he tried to focus his thoughts on images of naked women and that slrt of thing. When this didn't do anything for him he tried thinking about anything else that may help him but to no avail. Unintentionally his thoughts drifted back to the dream he had just had and the image of Sherlock ontop of him, touching him. This caused his cock to twitch a bit in his hand and within a minute or so he felt his balls contract and semen came spurting out of his dick which then fell limply once he released it from his grip.

After a few seconds of sitting there breathing heavily, John stood up and quickly cleaned up. He left the bathroom and went back to his bed. Lying back down he looked to his clock on his bedside table; 5:29am.

"Good" he thought "No current unsolved cases so Sherlock shouldn't be awake, he wouldn't have noticed anything" John thought about this "But he _would _notice. He notices everything, he's bound to know what's going on. Wait, _nothing's going on!" _

John couldn't help but worry about what Sherlock would think, even though he kept telling himself that nothing was going on with him. It ended up that he couldn't get to sleep with his mind racing like it was and he stayed awake in his bed until 7:00am, which is when he usually wakes up.

Slowly sitting up, John wearily rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Getting dressed he wondered what he should do when he sees Sherlock and settled on just acting like everything was normal, even though he was certain that Sherlock would see right through him.

When John walked into the living room he found Sherlock sitting in one of the armchairs using his laptop.

"Morning" said John walking to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and was glad to hear that his voice sounded normal.

Sherlock said nothing which John was used to him doing.

He was opening the fridge to get the milk when he heard a sound behind him and he turned to see Sherlock leaning on the table, his laptop discarded on the sofa.

"Restless night?" Sherlock asked with a slight smile.

John froze halfway between closing the fridge door "What do you mean?" he managed to choke out.

Before he knew it, Sherlock was leaning over him, his hand ontop of the fridge door and his body pressed ever so slightly against Johns back. John shivered as Sherlocks breath went down his neck.

Seconds passed and then Sherlock pushed the fridge door closed and walked away, still smiling. John was left standing in the kitchen, dazed and confused.

Hours later, John and Sherlock were in St. Barts where Sherlock was testing something that John didn't understand.

So far for the whole day John had been incredibly awkward around Sherlock and he found it hard for his thoughts not to wander back to his dream.

"John," said Sherlock "pass me my phone"

"Where is it?"

"Jacket"

John swallowed. He had gotten Sherlocks phone out of his Jacket before while he was wearing it but right now it was different. He walked across the room to Sherlock and slipped his hand around him to get into his jacket.

Suddenly Sherlock had grabben Johns arm, spun around on his seat, stood up and pressed John against the counter. John gasped but he couldn't get himself to move.

"John," Sherlock whispered into his ear "I know"

"What?" John looked Sherlock in the eyes, which was the first time in two days.

Sherlock moved his hand up Johns side to his face where he stroked his cheek with his thumb "I know how you feel, and it's OK John, I understand"

John shuddered at his touch, his eyelids flickering "I...Sherlo.."

He was cut short by a quick kiss on his lips from Sherlock. After a second or two of silence John could no longer help himself, a sudden impulse caused him to give into his recent feelings and grabbed the back of Sherlocks head, entwining his fingers in his hair and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

The softness of Sherlocks lips suprised John as he pulled him in closer. Both of their hands were now roaming eachothers bodies and they only broke apart for quick intervals to take a breath.

Finally Sherlock pulled away and John tried to pull him back but he resisted.

"How about we continue this somewhere where we're certain we won't be disturbed?" he said.

John smiled and followed Sherlock out of the hospital to Baker Street...


End file.
